


Cat’s In The Cradle

by SAYS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Song Lyrics, cat’s in the cradle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAYS/pseuds/SAYS
Summary: For Courtney - A story about Argus Filch and Mrs Norris. His pre-Hogwarts' life.





	Cat’s In The Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Courtney, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways – I wrote you a Argus story. It's set to the song 'Cat's in the Cradle' by Harry Chapin. It was one of my favorites songs a kid and it just seemed to fit Argus' tragic story. Please enjoy it in the probably un-canon way it's written. I loved writing it for you, Astrid Courgis.

_My child arrived just the other day_  
He came to the world in the usual way  
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay  
He learned to walk while I was away  
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew  
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad  
You know I'm gonna be like you" 

 

“Come on, Mrs Norris!” a young boy called out to the cat trailing behind him in the garden. Argus, at five years old, was tall for his age. Thin as a rail, his mother kept his straggly hair cut short because his father thought the mop it became when it was longer an embarrassment to the family name. His father, with his prominent name in the British Wizarding community, was all about appearances. He didn't even like most of the animals that seemed attracted to his son and heir, but thought it showed a budding career as a Magizoologist. There was nothing more then the father craved than success and prestige in the magical community that he thrived in. Perhaps it was a blessing he was hardly home to young Argus and his mother.

Argus marched through the well trimmed grass that surrounded the gardens his mother loved and tended with care. Today was adventure day, and he hoped to find the gnome that lived there and vanquish it before his father returned from his Ministry job in Magical London. Maybe then his father would allow him to have more than just Mrs Norris as a companion. He wasn't allowed to have the children in Magical community around them over too often, not that he really wanted them around _either._ They usually made fun of him when the adults weren't there for his naturally stringy hair, way too thin physique _and_ his inherent surly attitude. In that, he took after his father (to the despair of his mother).

“Do you see it yet, Mrs Norris?” Argus asked the cat once they'd finally stopped in the middle of garden. It was a handsome garden. Well tended into a artfully careless expanse of flowers, roses, bushes and surrounded on three sides by a high hedgerow to protect it from trespassers. It was also charmed by more than a few magical spells to keep out said trespassers and to keep Muggles from seeing the grounds and the mansion that the family lived in. Even though it was a Magical area in the Scottish Lowlands that no Muggles could find, he still didn't want any of their _kind_ anywhere near where he was. He kept himself and his family from as much of the Muggle community as he could. Those he called his friends were also of the same ilk. When it was time, Argus' father would make sure his son felt the same way. The Magical World was for the pureblooded, and all others could get out.

Argus heard a rustle in the growth around him and his boon companion. He reached down and grabbed up a stick and pointed it towards the sound like a wand. “Boom!” he said loudly and flicked the stick. While nothing actually came out the tip of his 'wand', he grinned widely as if it had. “See that, Mrs Norris?” he asked proudly and jumped back slightly when the hedge parted in a spot and a faun peeked through to look at him. “Oh! It's you!” he called out and dropped his stick. The fawn wiggled his way through and kicked up his back legs once he was in the garden. “Have you see the gnome?” he asked the fawn while his hand stroked the white spot on his face. “Mother would be so happy if it was gone!” he exclaimed and look towards a patch of the garden where his mother's favorite roses were. The bush drooped, its thorny branches withered and black. Broken pieces lay around it, their thorns littering the dry ground beneath it.

That was why Argus felt it important to vanquish the gnome, but his mother had simply shook her head sadly when she'd seen it and had told him not to worry about it. She'd take care of it later and pointed him off to the library for him to start his lessons for that day. She'd wanted to send him to the nearby village's school so he could learn to interact with other children of his age, but his father had forbade it, saying “Hogwarts is soon enough, don't want him to associate with the riffraff that don't get Sorted to Slytherin.”

His father had filled him with the importance of Slytherin House and of its founder, Salazar Slytherin. That Purebloods (and _some_ Halfbloods) were far superior than those _others_. Argus wasn't sure what a Mudblood was or what they looked like, but he was sure they were _horrible_! Crooked teeth. Bushy hair that stuck out in all directions. Smelling worse than the bog on a hot, summer night. He bet that they even ate children who didn't obey their parents! His nanny had read him a book about a brother and sister who'd encountered a witch in the forest – and he was very sure that was what a Mudblood was. The boy and girl must have been _real_ witches, because they had defeated the crone. It just had to be.

Argus gave the fawn one last look before he watched it shuffle back through the brush at the call of its mother. ”Argus!! Lunch time!” called Mother, and he scratched at the dirt beneath his shoe. “We'll be back!” he exclaimed in the air with an upraised fist. He could hear a malevolent chuckle deep in hedge, and he snapped a glance towards where he heard it and lifted his foot to trudge over there. ”Right now, Argus!” He heard the call again, and he huffed. “Coming!” Argus called out, kicking his stick 'wand' in frustration.

 

_My son turned ten just the other day_  
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play  
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today  
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"  
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed  
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah  
You know I'm gonna be like him" 

Today was the day! Argus was turning eleven and that meant his letter from Hogwarts was coming. He rubbed his hands lightly together before bounding down the stairs. He ran to look out the window, so sure that an owl would be circling the parapet waiting on him to get up so he could be beak delivered his letter. He'd show his father, who'd been mumbling something about him being a Squib. He didn't know what that was _exactly_ , but his father hadn't been all that happy when he'd said it. In fact, the last few times the mansion had important visitors, his father had made him stay upstairs and quiet, like he no longer existed. His father hardly spent time with him anymore, and except for Mrs Norris, his father had sent all of his special friends away. His mother hadn't let his cat get sent away though. She said Argus needed _her_ , and he did. Her fur collected all his tears at night when he allowed himself to cry.

“Come on, Mrs Norris!” Argus called out with excitement. Maybe he needed to be outside for the owl to appear. He bounded out the door with his cat behind him. His eyes gazed up into the morning blue sky. He had all day, and once he had it, he'd show it to his father and they could go to Diagon Alley to celebrate. They'd buy his wand at Ollivander's, even though he knew he couldn't use it until his First Year at Hogwart's began. But, it would be a special moment between himself and his father. Finally, he'd see the pride and love once again in his father's eyes. He'd do everything he could to make sure he was Sorted into Slytherin and do everything in his power to make sure his father continued to feel love and pride in him.

Morning turned to afternoon, and Argus had shifted in his spot on the marble stairs to the front door of their home when his father had pushed by him to head off to work. The man had barely noticed his son, and Argus had opened his mouth to remind him of what the day was. All Argus had gotten was a mumbled _Happy Birthday_ before his father left. He'd felt the tears well up behind the orbs of his eyes before closing them tight. He was going to get his letter! He snuffled and rubbed the side of his hand against his nose. He felt snotty, sad and he was beginning to lose hope – but also refusing to accept it. He heard the soft meow next to him and felt Mrs Norris clamber up into his arms. He buried his face into her fur.

Afternoon turned in night, and it must have rained, for Mrs Norris' fur had become wet. He barely felt his mother's hand on his shoulder when she helped him stand up. They headed back into the house, past the uneaten cake and dinner that had been prepared. Argus wasn't hungry. Argus wasn't happy. Argus knew now that he wasn't a wizard, and his father would never be proud of him.

_I've long since retired, my son's moved away_  
I called him up just the other day  
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"  
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time  
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu  
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad  
It's been sure nice talking to you"  
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me  
He'd grown up just like me  
My boy was just like me 

 

Argus sat in the shadows against the wall of a building in London. He thought it was a sick joke that he could see the witches and wizards enter the Ministry while those called Muggles could not. He wished he couldn't see them either, but his Squib status didn't prevent that. Neighborhood stray cats settled around him and Mrs Norris the Third. They kept him warm with their furry bodies when the weather turned cold. Some woman came by every day and left him a bag of food. He'd seen the pity in her eyes, and something else. He wasn't too sure what it was, but the stray cats liked her as much as they did him, and she carried her own cat in her bag that always chirped cheerfully at Mrs Norris. That made her seem trustworthy, even as they never spoke to each other. He liked it that way. But today, the woman was late, and he felt his stomach rumble.

Argus coughed lightly and rubbed a dirty hand over Mrs Norris' soft fur. His one constant, even if she was the third of her name. He glanced up as a shadow passed over him. His eyes took in the ornate robes of the obvious _wizard_ before him and he tried to shrink away. He'd been in Diagon Alley when his father had been dragged away by Aurors, and he just hoped that this wasn't one of them come to drag him away like his father. His eyes had widened at the sight, and he'd turned away as his father had called out to him, asking him to explain he couldn't have helped You-Know-Who. That he couldn't be a Death Eater because his son was a Squib, and he loved him. Argus had turned away without a word with Mrs Norris in his arms and had headed for the barrier at the Leaky Cauldron. That was the last he'd seen him. There was just rumors on the streets about his father and his old friends being sent to Azkaban and that the esteemed Dark Lord his father had disavowed had been defeated by a child.

”My name is Albus Dumbledore,” the wizard said in introduction. The name was familiar to Argus, and he remembered how his father had spoken about him. He was a professor at Hogwarts. The thought brought a tinge of old anger up in him. “Whacha want?” he asked and held Mrs Norris closer. So far, the cat wasn't hissing or clawing out at the wizard, so Argus relaxed.

”My friend, Mrs Figg, mentioned you to me,” Dumbledore explained, ”She couldn't make it today, and sent me to talk to you. Your name is Argus, right?” he asked, and Argus nodded. The wizard surprised him by settling down on the dirty sidewalk next to Argus and leaned back against the wall. Albus sighed thoughtfully, he was going on Arabella Figg's recommendation, but the female Squib had been one of his most trusted operatives throughout the last war. Her worry over a fellow Squib had brought her to him. He was placing her in a different area now to watch over a boy named Harry Potter, and she didn't want Argus to be lost in the shuffle. She'd left it up to Dumbledore to solve it, and, after seeing the younger Squib, he knew what to do.

”I'm headmaster now at Hogwarts, and I'm in need of a new caretaker for the castle,” Dumbledore explained, the twinkle showing through his gaze. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few candies, ”Here, have a lemon drop,” he offered and popped one in his mouth. He rolled and sucked on it while he waited on Argus to digest his words. Squib,” he said with a sneer.

”The position doesn't require magic,” Albus said, ”And Mrs Norris here can be your assistant. You'd like that?” he asked and stood up. In Dumbledore's mind, the matter was settled. Argus popped the lemon drop in his mouth and savored the flavor. This was his chance to finally go to Hogwarts. It wasn't the way he'd always imagined, but nothing in his life was thought it would be anyhow. He nodded his head after looking at Mrs Norris. Her gaze had given consent, and he stood up.

“Can I have shackles?” Argus asked hopefully as they disappeared in a whoosh of magic.

_And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon_  
Little boy blue and the man on the moon  
When you comin' home son?  
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son  
You know we'll have a good time then 


End file.
